Devil
by saradoodle
Summary: Orihime works in a small, old bookstore, but when a strange man enters the store one evening she finds herself going insane. Just who - or what - is this man? AU UlquiHime
1. Chapter 1

Hi there. I'm Sara. This is my very first FanFiction, and I have no Beta, so please be nice.

I am sort of excited for this, though I do hope that I am able to actually get through this fic and finish it. I'm not planning on this being a very long story, Ten Chapters at most, so maybe the fact that it's going to be a bit short will help out with the whole _"I never finish any stories I start"_ deal.

The characters, especially that of Orihime, may be a bit ooc, and I'm sorry if she seems a bit... crazy. Everything will make more sense in due time :)

**Disclamer: **And I will only say this once, I DO NOT OWN BLEACH.

I hope you enjoy the first chapter of _Devil._

* * *

><p><strong>Novation<strong>, _noun_

1. _Law._ The substitution of a new obligation for an old one, usually by the substitution of a new debtor or of a new creditor.

2. The introduction of something new; innovation.

_._

_Devil_

_Chapter One._

_._

_._

When I first met him, I thought he was strange with his deathly pale skin and bright eyes that, at a glance, could have easily been mistaken as emeralds, but I liked him. Everyone else I knew was too normal, and I was beginning to get tired of seeing _normal_ everywhere, so when he walked into the small, clustered, dusty bookstore I was employed one afternoon, an air of importance engulfing him, I felt refreshed, yet intimidated, by the change.

I was sitting at the front desk, halfway through re-reading the ninth _Lemony Snicket_ book (_The Carnivorous Carnival_ was always my favorite as a child) when I heard the _ding_ of the front door opening and closing. I looked up from my reading to see this dark-haired man perusing the walls and shelfs of books.

What was the first thing I did? I blushed.

And then I did something really stupid. I spoke to him.

"Hello, sir," I said, much more confidently than I felt, "Do you need any help with finding something?"

And he just looked up. Slowly and carefully, as if he would break if he moved to quickly (I wouldn't be surprised if he did break, he was too perfect for any human). His green eyes stared at me for a moment, almost as if he was observing me, like a scientists observes his specimen or a hunter observes his prey, and then spoke in a deep, soothing baritone, "No, thank you. I'm just browsing."

For a moment, I was too shocked to move or retort at all, but I felt my head nodding, almost robotically, and I looked down at my book and began reading once again. But, the funny thing was, was that I couldn't read it. I tried to _look_ like I was reading, but I was too preoccupied with this man that was walking around the shop, mere feet from where I was sitting. He would pick old books off shelfs attentively with his slender fingers, glance at the cover, and then open the book to thumb through the pages before closing it and setting it back on the shelf in it's proper place. I noticed that all the book he would pick to examine were rather old copies - books with frayed edges or weathering spines and yellowed pages. Most of them were also noticeably thick which got me wondering what sort of books he was into. Did he enjoy the classics like _Moby Dick_ and _Tom Sawyer_, or did he enjoy even older writings? Was he a Shakespeare Person? If he was, did he prefer the tragedies or the comedies? I didn't bother asking him, though. He looked too preoccupied with his… browsing.

I did notice, though, his gratuitous attire which consisted of a fitted, fancy, and rather expensive looking tuxedo. I was sure, almost positive, that today was _not_ sunday, and unless he was going to or coming from a wedding or funeral or something of the similar that he wouldn't be wearing something so formal. Unless, of course, he was just a weirdo.

But he couldn't be a weirdo. He was too… too… _proper_ to be a weirdo. He stood perfectly with his back straight and his shoulders rolled back, he kept his chin up and his hands behind his back as he walked, and there was absolutely no way that a weirdo would read some of the books he was picking out: _The Jungle _and _Roots_ were just a few of what I noticed when he was skimming the shelfs closest to the register. His hair was even perfect, not a single hair out of place, and unnaturally black even though I was sure that it _was_ natural. I couldn't picture him with any other sort of hair color, and even though it was strange considering how light his skin was, it fit him. It fit his demeanor and his persona perfectly. Everything about him was perfect, and I felt flattered that he had chosen _my _bookstore to enter. It was as if I owned a restaurant in a kingdom and the king had decided to dine in my establishment.

When he walked up to the register, a copy of Henry David Thoreau's _Walden, or Life in the Woods_ in hand, my heart started racing and I began to fear speaking to him again. I was suddenly confused by my actions, after all, this was a stranger. Why would I be freaking out like this, like I was about to go on a first date or take an important exam? I dismissed the uneasiness as a feeling of intimidation from this mans stature and smiled as he walked up to the desk and placed the book in front of me.

I grabbed the book and began typing in the price on the register.

"Did you find everything you needed, sir?"

"Yes," He said flatly and I felt his bright eyes watching my movements carefully, "You have quite an interesting collection here."

I looked up from my work I smiled and chirped a pleasant _'thank you' _before looking back down at the register. I pressed a button and a price popped up on the small display screen. "Seven Fifty-Seven, please." I said and began packaging the book in a small brown bag. He pulled out a rather lavish leather wallet and pulled out a ten. I swapped the paper bag out for the bill, and began punching in more number to evaluate his change.

"I may have to start coming here more often." He said, his smooth voice flowing through my ears sweetly and I breathed in deeply to try an calm myself, again blaming my strange behavior on his intimidating persona.

"Well I'm glad you enjoy my selection so much," I said, beginning to retrieve his change, "And if there's ever something you can't find, we can always order it for you." I smiled, reaching my hand out to his to give him the change. He took it gracefully and slipped the bills into his wallet, moving to stash the change in his coat pocket. He gave a slight nod and began to turn towards the exit.

"Thank you very much, miss." He spoke as he grasped the door handle, not even bothering to look back.

"Come back soon!" I called as the door closed behind him.

I sighed, the suffocating feeling beginning to ease as I felt myself breath more normally. I collapsed back into my rolling chair, and picked up my long forgotten book. It took a while of just sitting there trying to pacify my emotions. It's strange to think about that night, even now, considering how completely insignificant it may seem. He could have been just any other pedestrian, any other citizen, but like I mentioned at the beginning of this memoir - he was strange.

There _was_ some significance in this first meeting, and if it was fate or a coincidence I wouldn't be sure because even though I am a firm believer of fate, there was just too much peculiarity of this meeting for it to be classified as such. As I was saying, there was a very potent significance of this man, and this first meeting of ours, and there would be only a quick sentence that could describe just how noteworthy this meeting was:

This was the first time I had met Mr. Ulquiorra Ciffer.

* * *

><p>"I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity." <strong>-Edgar Allen Poe<strong>

* * *

><p>I wasn't able to keep that man from the bookstore out of my mind. Every waking moment for weeks later, he'd be in my thoughts, staring at me with his calculating eyes. It was a strange experience, not being able to leave his face for a moment.<p>

I started thinking about this mystery man almost as much as I thought about Ichigo, and Ichigo… well, he was always in my thoughts. I had known Ichigo for years, since we were kids. His mother had died the same year my brother had, so we both spent time together in our counseling class.

When I was a child a stray bullet in a super market found its way to my brother, and I was sent to an hour-long class after school called _Sunset_. Two weeks after my first day in that class, Ichigo was brought in. His hair, which at first surprised me, matched my own reddish tresses. That was what caught my attention. I had always been teased for my bright, obnoxious hair color, and seeing someone with the similar features made me think that someone might know how I felt.

He and I became friends quickly. He was a bit quiet and stubborn, but once you got past his cold demeanor he was actually a real nice guy. His mother had passed in a car accident but, unlike my own experience, he was there with her when she died. I felt sad for him; I felt his same pain.

I realized quickly that he loved his mother a lot.

After years and years, Ichigo and I considered each other best friends, and I had developed a sort of infatuation with him. He had grown up to be very, very handsome, and after all what girl _doesn't _want a guy who's good looking? Though, it wasn't only looks that caught my attention.

Ichigo was kind, protective, intelligent, the model student in high school and even through college he maintained that reputation. Although, he did get into his fair share of fights and was almost always walking around with some sort of bandage or cast on his body. Despite his anger issues, he was able to inspire the student body as student council vice president and the star midfielder for the soccer team.

I seemed to have gone off track… sorry, but, I could go on about Ichigo for hours. We were talking about that guy in the bookstore.

Since that day, I would go into work hoping to see him again, to maybe get his name and talk to him for a little bit. I wanted to know more about him besides the fact that he liked reading, and dressed nice, and first choice for a book was Thoreau. Other than that… there was nothing.

The only time I had seen him was in a dream. It was a strange dream, where I was in a forest. Trees would be everywhere, but only one tree stood out from the others. It was the largest tree with a twisted trunk and large roots. Its branches knotted with each other as if they were ropes and its leaves were a dull green shade, as if summer had yet to end but autumn had yet to start.

Then he'd be there, this man, his pale face framed by his dark locks and his bright green eyes peeking out from under his bangs. He would be dressed in fine clothing, looking just like he did in the bookstore, except for one difference. The contrast was small and hardly noticeable, yet it made a surprisingly large impact on me. He would have two lines, black as night, falling from his eyes down his cheeks like tear tracks.

When I wake up I'm more fearful for myself than I've been in my whole life, but in the dream I am anything but afraid. I look upon his… demonic face and think, _how beautiful._

It was, simply, beautiful.

I didn't hang around my friends too much those weeks, too engrossed in my own thoughts to really even do anything. It wasn't until one Tuesday that I looked in my refrigerator and realized I had nothing left in there to eat. I didn't want to go grocery shopping and spend one hundred dollars on food that will only last me until the weekend, so I called up my friend Tatsuki and asked her to lunch.

Tatsuki, besides Ichigo, has been my longest friend. She was a few inches taller than me, which still wasn't very tall, and styled her dark hair short and spikey. She knew me better than anyone, so she could tell that something was wrong with me before the waiter had even brought our drinks out.

We were sitting on the patio of a small teahouse in the city. I had ordered a French Vanilla Coffee while she had ordered herself some Hot Chai Green Tea. We were sitting there in a comfortable silence when she began bombarding me with questions.

"Are you okay, Orihime?" Was the first thing she asked, drumming her fingers on the cloth-clad table, "You haven't really been yourself lately."

"What do you mean?" I said innocently, tucking a tuff of hair behind my ear and leaning my elbows on the table. Her eyes locked on mine as if looking for anything out of the ordinary. She leaned back in her seat as the waiter walked over with two cups. She waited until our waiter had finished setting our drinks down and collected our orders before continuing.

"Well… I mean, you've just been kind of," She paused, as if trying to search for the right words, "Withdrawn."

"W-withdrawn" I sputtered in the middle of a sip of my coffee. "How have I been withdrawn?"

"Well," Tatsuki began, stirring her tea with a spoon distractedly; "You haven't really been doing anything besides working and staying in your apartment. You never try to hang out with me or the guys anymore, I mean, I know its college and all, Hime, but there's got to be time in your schedule for friends, yeah? And you haven't really been as… happy as you usually are. It's… weird. Is something wrong? You even have dark circles around your eyes, have you been sleeping well?"

I touched the skin beneath my eyes, wondering if the dreams were affecting me in any way, then smiled shyly at Tatsuki, happy that she cared enough about me to bring my behavior up. I knew that I was being withdrawn, but I had good reasons for it. The only problem I had, though, was that I wasn't ready to confide all of my problems to Tatsuki. So, I kept my mouth shut about the strange man, and tried to reassure her.

"I'm glad you care, Tatsuki," I said "But there's nothing really going on. I've just been studying a lot so that's probably why I haven't been getting much sleep."

I don't think she believed my lie for one minute, but she left the situation alone and shrugged her shoulders. The waiter brought our food, and we began to dig in.

"Anyways," she said, stuffing a fork full of salad into her mouth, "Since you really need to get out of the house you should come with me and Ichigo and a few others this weekend to the beach."

"The beach?" I said, smothering my fries with ketchup and trying not to notice Ichigo's name was involve in that invitation, "Sounds fun. I can try and get off work, I guess."

"You don't need to study?" Tatsuki joked. I laughed, a real one and not a fake, awkward laugh.

"Nah, I've studied enough for now."

"You seem less excited than I thought you'd be," Tatsuki laughed, "I mean, Ichigo's going!"

I couldn't help but smile at that. Tatsuki knew about my feelings for Ichigo. She said it was obvious, but unless Ichigo was just utterly stupid with relationships he hasn't seemed to notice.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I should be more excited!"

"Maybe I can try and get y'all to sit next to each other when we have the bonfire." Tatsuki said, nudging my arm with hers, and for the first time in weeks I felt more like myself. It was a nice feeling, so nice that I invited Tatsuki to spend the rest of the afternoon with me.

We walked to the mall and shopped around for a few hours, then went bowling. We ate the bowling alley burgers for dinner, which I think are much more tasty than people give them credit for and before we knew it the night was over and we needed to be going home. Tatsuki had an early class the next day, and so did I. We called it a night.

I had to run to the bus stop to make sure I didn't miss the last run of the evening. I was sitting on the bench humming a happy tune to myself, the dark haired man long forgotten. No one else was waiting for the bus that night, and I felt myself shivering from the evening chill.

Five minutes passed. Ten. I was still the only person on the bench.

Then finally, when I saw the bus approaching down the street I began anticipating a nice warm apartment and some sherbet ice cream and re-runs of That '70s Show. I was so engrossed with my own thoughts that I didn't notice a man walk up next to me without saying a word.

The bus came to a slow stop right in front of the man and I. I walked onto the bus first, placing a coin into the small slot, and skipping to find a spot by myself towards the middle of the vehicle. That was when I noticed the man who was with me on the stop, who had moved to take the seat opposite from mine. I became stiff and found my eyes trying to look anywhere but to the right of me, where I knew he was sitting with his back as straight as a knife.

After all, I would know those green eyes anywhere.

_._

_._

_Chapter One_

_End._


	2. Chapter 2

**_Song _by Sir John Suckling (1609-1642)**

_Why so pale and wan, found lover?  
><em>Prithee, why so pale?  
><em>Will, when looking well can't move her,<br>__Looking ill prevail?  
><em>_Prithee, why so pale?_

_Why so dull and mute, young sinner?  
><em>_Prithee, why so mute?  
><em>_Will, when speaking well can't win her,  
><em>_Saying nothing do't?  
><em>_Prithee, why so mute?_

_Quit, quit, for shame; this will not move,  
><em>_This cannot take her.  
><em>_If of herself she will not love,  
><em>_Nothing can make her:  
><em>_The devil take her!_

.

Devil

Chapter Two

.

.

It was a strange coincidence seeing him on the bus. I sat there, trying to calm my breathing, and I wondered if I should acknowledge him. What if he remembered me? What if he saw me get on the bus as well? If I didn't say hello would he think I was stuck up and not want to buy another book from my store? I felt my mind beginning to muddle again. I wasn't forming complete sentences and I felt like I was thinking gibberish. I was pondering, _should I speak to him?_

But, surprisingly enough, I didn't have to make the first move.

"Have we met?"

He spoke quietly yet fiercely, and for a moment I wasn't sure if he was talking to me or some other passenger. I turned my head to look at him and found myself gazing into his intense emerald eyes. I must have had a confused or puzzled look on my face because he quickly added, _"_You work at that bookstore, right?_"_

"Y-yeah," I stammered. His attire was more casual than the first time I had met him, though still very elegant and well suited to his image. I was too drawn into his physique that I didn't notice his outstretched hand until it was already well across the aisle which separated us.

"I don't believe I've introduced myself. My name is Ulquiorra."

I was slightly taken aback by his gesture, yet I suddenly began to feel more… content and less anxious. I hesitantly reached out to grasp his hand. He had a firm handshake, strong and professional, as if he had worked for a fairly long time in business or as a lawyer.

"I'm Orihime." I introduced myself.

"It's nice to formally met you," He interjected, pulling his arm back to his side, "I figure I may be seeing you more often at the bookstore."

He spoke as if we were already friends, as if we had known each other for years and although I knew it should have bothered me - it was just so out of the blue and eerie - I couldn't help but begin feeling more comfortable around him. I was breathing normally and my heart beat wasn't racing. It was a refreshing, foreign feeling and I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it.

"That's wonderful," I said with a genuine smile "How has that book been? I hope it's a good read!"

"I'm currently reading it for the third time," He replied, speaking so seriously that I had no time to think if he was kidding or not. Nonetheless, I put forth a brave smile as my confidence rose.

"Wow! I don't think I could ever read that fast," I said, genuinely surprised, "So are you going to come in for a new book soon?"

"Maybe tomorrow" He said, then looked up to the front of the bus as it came to a slow halt. He stood up. "This is my stop," He spoke, glancing down at me, a contradicting look in his emerald eyes, "Nice seeing you again,"

And just like that he exited the transportation vehicle and hurried down the sidewalk.

I sighed, letting out a large breath of air that I hadn't realized I'd been holding. I followed his retreating form as the bus pushed slowly forward, the tails of his overcoat billowing in the wind.

Ulquiorra. So that was his name.

It was a strange name, I thought. Exotic. Foreign. Different.

Just the thought of him made my insides flutter. Just imagining those bright green eyes made me want to blush. I was so absorbed in thinking of him that I almost didn't notice my stop. I hurried off the bus, almost pushing through the already closing doors, and darting down the street.

* * *

><p>My apartment wasn't very large. It was just one bedroom, one bath, with a small but useful balcony and a nice sized kitchen. I flung my keys on the small side table and hung my coat in the closet before walking into the small living room and flopping on my leather loveseat. Just as I had fixed the television on a new episode of Modern Family, an annoyingly loud noise reached my ears.<p>

_Ring. Ring. Ring._

I sighed, aggravated by the interruption, and stood up, answering the phone.

"Hello." I spoke irritated, already a bit upset that someone interrupted my down time.

_"Orihime? What crawled up your ass?"_

Oh, lord. I knew that deep voice anywhere.

"Oh! Hi, Ichigo!" I said a more cheerily, "Sorry! You just… interrupted my shows." I laughed awkwardly, feeling very, very shy. I was surprised to hear Ichigo's voice on the other side of the phone since he never really called me himself.

_"Really? You want me to call you back later?" _He said into the phone, his voice sounding genuinely sorry.

"No! No, no." I said a bit too quickly, not wanting our conversation to end, "You're fine. What's up?"

_"Well, I just wanted to ask if you wanted to come to the beach with me and some of the gang this weekend." _He said. I almost started laughing, realizing that Tatsuki had asked me the same thing during lunch that same day. Then, a thought came to me. I realized that Ichigo had asked me himself as if he really wanted me to go with them. I felt like I was going to have a heart attack

"Y-yeah," I stuttered, suddenly nervous and anxious, "Yeah, Tatsuki told me about it earlier today. I'd love to go!"

_"Really? Well, sorry I brought it up again," _I heard him chuckle over the phone as he spoke. His laugh was wonderful.

"It's okay!" I smiled, "It sounds like a lot of fun!"

"_Yeah! So, guess we're probably going to leave after classes end on Thursday. Is that okay?"_

I smiled, nodding my head until I realized that he couldn't see me.

"Yeah. That sounds good." I said.

"_Alright. See ya later, Hime!"_

And he hung up.

I set the phone on the counter top, sliping into the living room and shutting off the television with a smile. Ichigo had called me and invited me to do something with him. It was the happiest feeling.

But then I realized that it would never happen. Ichigo was too oblivious to me. He never acknowledged me. The only reason he called me was probably because Tatsuki mentioned inviting me or something. He didn't do it just because he wanted to. He did it because he felt like he had to.

I hated it, all this hope I had, wishing that one day Ichigo and I would be a couple and then realizing that it would probably never happen. It was strange, because despite knowing that Ichigo and I were never meant to be, I continued wishing and dreaming and praying that some day he'd take hold of my hand and pull me into his life.

I walked into my bedroom and, without changing out of my clothes, collapsed onto my bed and fell asleep imagining Ichigo's hand in mine.

* * *

><p>I had that dream again. It was nighttime in the forest, creating and even eerier look to the drooping trees. The brush was thicker than the last time I was there, the small bushes scratching my legs and arms as I trudged through the brush. Leaves stuck into my long hair as the tree branches became lower to the ground.<p>

Then, I saw it. I creeped upon the gigantic tree, its trunk as twisted as before and its branches looming over me menacingly. I walked up to it, stepping over the large roots and set my hand on its rough trunk. I felt a twinge of sorrow as I pressed my palm onto the bark, not really sure where this emotion came from. It was like all the happiness was being drawn out of me and into this large plant. Something was different about this tree, though.

Then I heard a rustle in the bushes behind me. I wasn't startled, in fact, I felt very calm as if I knew that whatever was standing behind me wouldn't hurt me. I turned slowly.

It was Ulquiorra.

His green eyes glowed sinisterly in the moonlight, his dark hair ruffled and messy. He was wearing all black, which accentuated his deathly pale face. His mouth was set in a hard line with no expression, no emotion. And the tear tracks down his face… they were still there.

"What are you doing," He drawled out, walking with a predatory stride closer to where I stood, analyzing me with his deep, intelligent emerald eyes. _Those eyes,_ I thought, _I can see straight inside of him._

His eyes showed his soul – a soul with no morals or mercy or love. They were pools of hatred and devastation and animal instinct.

They were the eyes of a monster.

"Speak, woman," He said, "What are you doing."

I couldn't find my voice. I didn't know how to reply.

"I… don't know." I finally was able to say, my hands shaking with fear as he walked ever closer, stopping just in front of me.

"Do you know what this is," He said, looking up into the higher branches of the trees. I followed his gaze and I saw something I didn't notice before. Up in the branches, much higher than I could reach, were small fruit dotting the greenery in the tree. Though, I didn't recognize them as any fruit I had ever seen.

"No." I said, looking more intensely at the fruit, "What is it."

"This," He said, turning to walk more around the tree, "Is where man fell."

"What?" I looked at him, puzzled, but he continued walking, not even looking my way, as if ignoring my confusion.

"'And the Lord God commanded the man, saying, of every tree of the garden thou mayest freely eat: but of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, thou shalt not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die.'"

I looked at him, still just as puzzled, before I realized the weight of his words. He had recited the bible, almost perfectly. I began putting two and two together.

"So then… this…" I said, backing away from the tree.

"This is the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Where, in the beginning, man fell from grace." He said, finally reaching my eyes with his own. He pointed to the fruit in the highest branches, "That is the forbidden fruit."

"So then we are standing in the Garden of Eden… right?" I asked.

"That is correct." He said, gliding over to me. He looked at me calculatingly, his green orbs boring into my own grey eyes. "Tell me, woman. Have you ever wondered what made Satan so evil."

I furrowed my eyebrows, "No. I've never really thought too hard on religion. I mean, I know a lot about it, but I've never really thought to go to church or anything."

"Pity." He said, "Religion is an interesting thing to think about."

"I suppose…" I replied, looking down.

"Well, then let me allow you to begin thinking," He said, "Before this incident in the garden, where was Satan. He wasn't in Hell, was he?"

"No," I spoke, "He was an Angel once, right? He lived in heaven."

"Yes. I thought that was strange."

"Strange? How?" I asked.

"There is no sin in Heaven, there is no evil. Heaven is the only place where evil does not exist," Ulquiorra said calmly, "So, my question is, that how could a man like Satan become so evil in a place full of nothing but good and perfection.

"Most humans," He continued, "sin because they are tempted, because they learn how to sin from someone else, but Satan had no sort of temptation in heaven. He created sin. He rebelled against God on his own accord. So, then, what do you think made him want to sin?"

I was silent for a moment, wondering weather I should answer or not, but after a while my enthusiasm got the better of me.

"Maybe it was because of his Pride. He saw God, and wanted to be like God and when he realized that would never happen he decided to try and take God's place."

"You are a smart girl," Ulquiorra said, "Perhaps it was his need to become God-like himself. He did acheive that feat, didnt he? He became God of the Underworld. He became just as powerful as God himself. Sometimes I wonder how God felt about this. Do you think he regrets throwing Satan into Hell's firey pits?"

"I'm not sure," I said, "No one can really ever know how God feels."

"I think he feels remorse," Ulquiorra said, "Maybe if he had just killed Satan, then there wouldnt have been a serpent in the garden to temp Eve and sin would have never bled into human society.

Then again, without sin, I wouldn't be standing here, would I? And neither would you."

I looked at him, puzzled. I didn't really quite understand why he was saying these things. I did not want to think about the devil, about how he became the devil. I really didn't care too much for conversations like this, and for the first time in weeks I wanted to get away from this man as quickly as possible.

"The Devil is an evil man, Ulquiorra," I said, finally feeling confident. I wasn't as afraid to speak to him anymore, and this overwhelming feeling of bravery sparked something in me, "He is a terrible, malicious man and you sould like you... admire him!"

"And what if I did?" He spoke so calmly, it was impossible for me to get any more angry with him. He looked at me, his face an expressionless mask, "What if I consider him the savior to humanity? What would you do then, woman?"

I opened my mouth, but sound could not come out. I wanted to scream at him, tell him he was insane but before I could find my voice Ulquiora spoke in a solid tone, his eyes void of any emotion.

"He is the most intelligent man I've ever met."

I woke up from the nightmare with a cold sweat.

* * *

><p>"Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes they win."<strong> - Stephen King<strong>

* * *

><p>I had enough time, I thought, to see her. After all, it was beginning to get tiring reading that same book over and over again. I needed something else to keep me company during the long nights I spent here. A bell dinged as I opened the door.<p>

She looked up from her work to see me, her grey eyes sparkling and her posture stiffening. I lifted my hand to wave.

"Hello again."

She smiled, an obviously forced smile, but a smile nonetheless. She had bags under her eyes as if she hadn't been getting very much sleep.

"Back so soon?" She replied pleasantly.

"I told you I would be here yesterday."

"Oh yes," She looked down, as if embarrassed. I turned to one of the shelves and began scanning the spines, searching for something that I hadn't read in a while. Most things I had already read. It was very rarely that I came across a book that I had not only never heard of, but that I also found interesting.

_In Cold Blood,_ no. I've read that one too much.

_Anthem,_ probably not. Ayn Rand wasn't a favorite of mine.

_I Am Legend, _maybe, but it was quite a short book and wouldn't last me long.

I continued on along the walls, feeling her eyes on my back as I paced around her shop. Her grey orbs would wander to my arms when I would reach out to pluck a novel from the shelve. Then, when I would turn my back away from her, they would dart back down to her work and a faint blush would appear on her cheeks.

I felt sorry for her.

There was a red book, sitting lone on the shelf adjacent to the front desk, about three inches thick with the title _The Norton Anthology of English Literature: Third Edition _printed in gold letters on the spine. Poetry. I hadn't read poetry in a long while. I picked it up gently and began flipping through its pages.

_Beautiful, _I thought as my fingers ran over the thousands of pages of prose and plays and poems. I closed the book and walked to the front desk. I saw the girl, _Orihime, _look up shyly and stuff a strand of her orange hair behind an ear with a delightful smile on her face.

She truly was beautiful. No wonder my master had his eyes set on her.

I set the book on the desk.

"Ooh, great choice!" Her eyes glistened as she picked up the book to glance at the price, "I love British literature!"

She seemed so happy as she pressed the buttons on the register. Her hair brushed into her face as she moved around to place the book in a brown paper bag. I set the money on the counter.

Orihime was pleasant; and innocent. I felt tightness in my chest as I thought of seeing her soft cheeks dirtied and her bright eyes lifeless. It was guilt, this feeling I felt. I was guilty that I knew something about her that she did not, I was guilty that I would be leading her to her death. I frowned.

She waved goodbye to me as I left, though not as happily as I would have thought. I promised I'd come by the store again soon as I grasped the handle of the door. _If only she knew, _I thought solemnly.

There was a man waiting for me outside the store, leaning against a brick wall with a cigarette dangling from his lips. His hair was tousled and blue and when I saw him my eyebrows furrowed. I turned the opposite direction and began walking in a faster pace than usual towards my temporary apartment. But he caught up to me.

"Ulquiorra! What the fuck is your problem?" He spat as he ran to walk alongside me. Grimmjow, a heavy tempered annoyance with a vulgar attitude and a hobby of irritating me to no end, was the last person I wanted to see. The wind blew smoke from his cigarette into my face. I wrinkled my nose.

"Grimmjow," I said irritably, "Could you please leave."

"I can't." He said flatly.

"Why not."

He shrugged and sucked in a drag from his cigarette - _disgusting_.

"The boss wanted me to come talk to you," He said as we turned a corner, "He said that… hold on…"

Grimmjow held his cigarette in his mouth and began rummaging through his pockets, pulling out a wad of notebook paper. Unfolding it, he took the stick out of his mouth and read off the page.

"Lets see… you need to report back to him about the girl and discuss further actions you will need to be taking with her. Oh, and also, he apparently wants me to help you out now. Sucks, right." He crumpled the paper back into a ball and stuffed it, once again, into his pocket. I sighed, and rubbed my temple. This was not what I needed.

"Okay. Fine." I said, not wanting to start an argument, "I'll speak with him this evening."

Grimmjow threw the butt on the ground and put it out with the heel of his shoe.

"Cool."

We walked in silence, a feat that I thought was incapable to achieve as long as Grimmjow was around, until we reached the door to my apartment building. I pressed in the number combination to unlock the front door and began to step inside.

"So…" Grimmjow's voice stopped me and I turned to face him, "can I stay with you, Ulquiorra?"

I looked at him with a bored face and seriously contemplated slamming the door on him.

"Look," He spoke as if he could read my mind and threw his hands up in mock surrender, "I don't want to work with you either. I mean, you're a huge prick and you're a smart ass and a whole bunch of other shit, but I don't want to get in trouble with you-know-who so I think we should at least _try _to work together."

For the first time, I felt a bit of respect for Grimmjow for trying to talk somewhat civil. I sighed.

"You are not allowed to touch my stuff. Do not talk to me. You will sleep on the couch."

I started up the stairs, leaving the door open for him to follow.

.

.

Chapter Two

End.


	3. Chapter 3

Okay, guys! I have a quick **Author's Note** to give y'all before you start reading this chapter.

I have gone back and re-written Chapter's One and Two. I would highly recommend going back and reading them, or else you may find yourself becoming slightly confused by this chapter. There are a few things that I added in the first two chapters that are really important to the storyline. Like I said, please please PLEASE re-read the first two chapters. :)

On a second, quick note, there are a couple of things in this chapter that you may not really know about enough to understand the context it is being used, such as the details of Arthur Miller's _The Crucible_ and Thomas Carlyle's _Signs of Times_. In these cases I have put a short summary of those two writings at the bottom of this chapter.

Please, enjoy Chapter Three of DEVIL.

* * *

><p><strong>Fear, <strong>_noun_

1. an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat.

2. a mixed feeling of dread and reverence_._

3. the likelihood of something unwelcome happening

_verb_

1. to be afraid of (someone or something) as likely to be dangerous, painful, or threatening

_._

_Devil_

_Chapter Three_

_._

_._

I arrived in my theater class that next morning groggy and tired, not really enthusiastic about preforming on stage for our director. I didn't sleep at all the previous night, afraid of having another dream like the one in the forest. It was the first time I had talked to my _Dream Ulquiorra_, and I wasn't looking forward to another conversation like that. If I wanted to talk about God and The Devil, I would have been taking a theology class.

I was, like most of our cast, a theater major. It was ironic, I thought, that our competition piece this year was Arthur Miller's _The Crucible,_ a play about the Salem Witch Trials. It was even more ironic that my character, Mary Warren, would soon be yelling in front of a court of law that John Proctor was the devils man.

I laughed in my seat at the stupidity of the situation.

Next to me sat my good friend, Uryu, who was the costume designer for the play. He was very talented in what he did. I wouldn't be surprised if he wins an Oscar for his work one day. I felt him lean towards me.

"Orihime, why are you laughing?" He said. I looked at him, his eyes full of worry behind his square glasses.

"I just… thought of something and couldn't help myself." I said, smiling.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"Yeah. I just haven't been sleeping well recently."

That seemed to have been a sufficient answer for he nodded his head and leaned back in his seat, directing his attention back at the stage. Our Abigail and Proctor were currently running through the woods scene and in a few minutes our director, Professor Urahara, will call scene, give the actors notes, and ask to set up for the court room scene.

The theater director was a strange guy. First of all, he preferred being called by his first name, Kisuke, and was the only professor on campus who requested that, I'm sure. Another thing that stood out about him was his strange fashion sense. His clothes were almost always mix-matched and out of the ordinary. He seemed as if he never wore the same thing twice, except for a green and white striped hat that he wore at all times. Most people said this was to hide a bald spot on the top of his head, but his blonde hair looked so healthy that I found that hard to believe.

"So, Tatsuki told me you'll be coming with us to the beach today." Uryu whispered.

"Yeah. I think I'll have to go home and get my stuff first, though. I left my suitcase in my room." I replied, speaking as softly as I could as to not interrupt the performance.

"Alright. Sounds good." Uryu said.

"Do you know who's all going?" I asked.

"Um…" Uryu paused for a moment, as if trying to recall who was all going on the beach trip, "You, Me, Tatsuki, Ichigo, Chad, Rukia, Renji, and… I think that's it."

"So basically the whole gang?" I said, smiling. Uryu chuckled.

"Yeah, I guess so."

That made me feel more excited for the beach trip. I hadn't talked to Rukia in months, since she and Renji chose to go to a college about an hour and a half's drive away. It will be really good to see them again. For a moment, I thought that maybe this trip was good for me, that it will keep me from thinking about Ulquiorra.

Speaking of Ulquiorra, he had entered the shop again last night.

I remember being happy to see him. After all, he was all I had been thinking of for weeks now, but once I remembered the conversation I had with him in my dream I began to feel uneasy and scared. I suddenly didn't want to see him. It wasn't until he left that I realized that it was only a dream, a dream which I shouldn't worry about. The dream wasn't important. It was just a dream.

But, then, if it wasn't important then why was I experiencing it every night?

"I will save you, John," I heard the Abigail on stage say, "From yourself, I will save you." The lights went out, and I heard Kisuke call scene.

"Raise the house lights!" He said as the entire room was lit up. He stood up from his seat in the front row, clapping his hands. "Very, very good, guys! The only problem I have is that there is one part when you are both speaking into the back curtain. You should go over the blocking for this scene later and figure out how to fix that."

The two actors on stage nodded their heads in understanding as Kisuke clapped his hands together again.

"Alright!," He said, "Stage crew! Get set up for the court scene! While they're doing that, I want all actors on stage – here now, stand on the apron. Yes that's fine."

I hurried up the stairs on onto the stage, standing directly on the apron just as Kisuke had said. Uryu stayed in his seat in the audience. I stood patiently, waiting for the other actors to find their way onto the stage and apparently, so was Kisuke.

"Alright," He began once everyone was present, "As you all may know, we have our competition at the end of the month. That's two weeks from today." He paused to allow his words to sink in.

"We are not quite at where we should be, but we're close. Really close. This scene that we're about to do is the most important scene in the play. If we fail at this scene, then we might as well have failed at the entire play. Luckily, we have a strong Danforth and if we didn't have a strong Danforth then this scene would be nothing. Next week, I am bringing in a man who used to direct some of Broadway's most successful plays. He said he's only in town on business right now, but is more than happy to come and look at what we've got. All right, everything looks set up now. Go to your places! Tech, bring down lights!"

Everyone scrambled to their places – Danforth, Cheever, Parris and Hale took their places on stage as Proctor and I went behind the curtains. As the lights rose, I was forcefully ushered into the scene by an angry Proctor.

I didn't really pay attention to what was going on in the scene, too lost in my own thoughts. I was usually very attentive on stage, but right now… there was too much going on for me to allow me full concentration on my character. I spoke my lines on cue, and I reacted the way I was supposed to react, but most of that was done by muscle memory. It wasn't until the end of the scene when the girls started screaming and calling my character a witch that I snapped back into the reality of my character.

I thought of Ulquiorra as I screamed at Proctor.

"You are the Devil's man!" I shouted, "I'll not hang with you, I love God!"

And I suddenly realized how my character felt. Mary was trapped in a world she didn't want to be in. She had followed Abigail out of fear, and was now condemning an innocent man in order to save herself from execution.

"My name, He want my name!' I continued shouting, "I'll murder you, he says, if my wife hangs!"

Now, if John Proctor really was a man of the devil, and Mary Warrant wasn't a manipulating girl then perhaps this situation would reflect upon my troubles perfectly.

But it was just a dream. Ulquiorra wasn't really saying those things. It was a dream.

The scene ended, the lights blacked out. The only sound in the theater was Kisuke's clapping.

"House lights!" He shouted. Everything was lit up in the theater again and the cast stood up from their positions, eager to hear what Kisuke had to say.

"Orihime," He said, looking at me with a smile on his face.

"Y-yes?" I said, cowering back a bit, knowing that my performance wasn't as good as it usually was.

"That was the best I've ever seen you play Mary." He said, "Sure, the beginning was a bit mediocre, but once the girls began accusing you of hurting them something seemed to click and you got the character dead on. Whatever you did, keep doing it."

I nodded my head, feeling slightly discouraged that I would have to picture Procter as Ulquiorra every time we ran that scene.

* * *

><p>"Kisuke was right. You're a great actress," Uryu said as we walked out of the theater building. "I'm surprised he didn't cast you as Abigail."<p>

"I didn't really want to be Abigail," I said, "She's too… corrupt. At least Mary has _some _morals."

"But you could have done it," Uryu continued, "Orihime, you're great. People would kill to be that good at acting. You could be on Broadway or in Hollywood."

"I doubt that," I said, smiling, "It's really hard to get into those places."

Uryu walked in front of me, stopping me in my tracks and grabbing onto my shoulder.

"But you could do it." He said, "Don't doubt yourself, Orihime."

Maybe Uryu was right. I probably shouldn't doubt myself, but the acting business was tough. It's a one-in-a-million career.

"Thanks, Uryu," I said, and I really was thankful for his input. Uryu was a sweet guy and a good friend. I was glad that I knew him.

"I gotta go to my British Lit. Class, Uryu, so I guess I'll see you tonight." I smiled, beginning to walk off.

"Yeah," He called, "We're meeting at Tatsuki's place before we leave, by the way."

"Alright! See you!" I said as I began pulling out a book from my bag.

We were studying Early Victorian Literature in the class, and I was assigned to read Thomas Carlyle's _Signs of Times_, though I hadn't been keeping up with it. I needed to have it finished by next week, since my professor was saying that he would be assigning an causal argument essay on our author and their book, something that I was dreading having to do.

I started walking through the campus, my face buried in the book as I read from where I had left off.

_These things, which we state lightly enough here, are yet of deep import, and indicate a mighty change in our whole manner of existence. For the same habit regulates not our modes of action alone, but our modes of thought and feeling. Men are grown mechanical in head and in heart, as well as in hand. They have lost faith in individual endeavor, and in natural force, of any kind. Not for internal perfection, but for external combinations and arrangements, for institutions, constitutions – for Mechanism of one sort or other, do they hope and struggle. Their whole efforts, attachments, opinions, turn on mechanism, and are of mechanical character –_

I suddenly felt a hard figure push against me and I fell backwards onto the courtyard grass. My books had fallen, scattered around me, and I kept my eyes shut, knowing all too well that I had embarrassed myself by running directly into someone.

"Hey, you okay?" I heard a deep voice say. I reluctantly opened my eyes and looked up.

A large man towered over me, a baggy tank top showing off his tanned, muscular form. He wore a pair of sunglasses over his eyes and his mouth was set into a hard line. He looked like the classic, college frat boy, a cigarette dangling from his mouth. He hair was a strange blue color, and was the only reason why I hesitated when he offered a hand to help me up.

I took his outstretched arm and felt myself being hoisted up. He bent down to gather my books, and handed them back to me without speaking.

"Sorry," I said, taking my books from him, "I wasn't really looking where I was going."

"It's okay," He said, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and putting it out on the concrete walkway, "It happens."

I'll admit this; he was handsome in a gruff, bad-boy sort of way but you'll probably never hear me say that out loud. Cigarettes are kind of a turn-off when it came to men, but other than that he seemed like a genuinely nice guy.

"I'm Grimmjow" He said, extending a hand. I took it, shaking it gently.

"I'm Orihime."

"Nice to meet you, Orihime," He smiled a large, toothy grin, that to any other girl would have seemed charming, "Are you a student here?"

"Yeah. Are you?" I asked.

"Not yet," He said, "I'm here to request a transfer for next semester. Hopefully they'll let me in." He chuckled as he spoke, and I laughed with him if only to be polite.

"Yeah, its pretty easy to get in here, so I'm sure you'll be okay," I said, smiling. He pointed down at the books in my hands.

"You an English major?" He asked curiously. I started laughing, surprised that he would have thought that. Though, I was carrying some pretty advanced and heavy books, so I can see where he got that idea.

"Oh no," I said once my laughing had calmed down, "Theater."

"A Theater major!" He smiled, his voice sounding interested, "How cool."

"Yeah, how about you?" I asked.

"I'm undecided," He said, stuffing his hands in his pockets, a smile still apparent on his face, "I'll probably end up being a business major if I don't figure things out soon."

"It's better than nothing, right?" I said, suddenly feeling that if I didn't get going soon I'll be late for my British Lit class. I began walking away, "Well, I have to go. I'm going to be late for my next class. It was nice meeting you."

"Yeah, hey! Wait!" Grimmjow said. I turned back around to face him. He smiled a large, toothy smile; just like earlier, "Are you busy tonight?"

"Well… um, actually yeah," I said, nervously, "I'm going to the beach with some friends of mine this weekend."

"Oh, alright," He said, sounding slightly discouraged, pulling his sunglasses off and looking at me with the bluest eyes I have every seen, eyes that matched the color of his hair almost perfectly. "Well, then I guess I'll see you around."

He started to walk away, and I suddenly felt bad for this guy. It's not a good feeling to be rejected by someone, and even though I didn't even know this guy at all I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. I guess it was the good samaritan inside of me that caused to say, "Wait!"

He turned around.

"I'll be back on Monday, if you want to do something then?" I asked hopefully. The smile returned to his face.

"Yeah, sure," He said, a smile spreading across his face, "If you want, we can meet at that pizza place on fifth street?

"Okay, sounds like a plan," I said, smiling, "I'll see you then."

"Yeah. See you."

And we departed.

* * *

><p>"I think you're the fucking Antichrist." <strong>- Donnie Darko, 2001<strong>

* * *

><p>It had taken me about half and hour to pack my things for a beach, so I wasn't surprised when I had arrived at Tatsuki's apartment and realized I was the last person there.<p>

"Orihime!" I heard Rukia yell when she slammed into me as I walked through the door. "It's been so long!"

Rukia, a dark haired girl with a temper bigger than she was, was strong for her body weight. She was a few inches shorter than me, and as thin as a stick, so I felt pleasantly surprised when her hug was practically choking me.

"R-Rukia…" I managed to sound out, "You're… ack!"

"Rukia, I think you're suffocating her," Renji said, walking up to us. Renji was fairly tall, tattoos covering his rather buff body. His hair was colored unnaturally red and tied back into a braid. He was also the only person who could pacify Rukia's strength and temper so when he spoke Rukia ended up letting me go with a startle, muttering an apology before grabbing onto my arm and pulling me into the room.

Chad and Uryu were sitting comfortably on the couch, flipping through the television channels while Tatsuki was in the kitchen packing drinks and snacks into an ice chest. Chad was sitting on the recliner, his curly mop of brown hair seen over the back of the chair, showing just exactly how tall he was. Uryu was sitting on the couch, remote in hand, with a bored expression.

Ichigo wasn't in the room, but I tried not to notice.

"Hey guys," I waved over at Chad and Uryu, who smiled and waved back. I started walking into the kitchen to join Tatsuki, followed closely by Rukia and Renji who were chattering away.

"You didn't have to almost choke her, you know."

"I haven't seen her in… like… a year!"

"Still. You didn't see me freak out."

"Oh, shut up!"

"Ow! Rukia! That hurt!"

"It was supposed to, you ungrateful –"

"Will both of you stop arguing!"

Ichigo had walked out from the hallway, his orange hair looking handsomely messy. I felt myself take a quick intake of breath when I saw him, feeling breathless from his appearance.

"Hey, Orihime," He said as he walked into the crowded kitchen.

"Hi!" I replied cheerily, "You excited about this weekend?"

"Oh, yeah, very." He said, smiling.

He and I stood there for a few moments in silence. I couldn't help but admire his bottle brown eyes and I felt myself blushing ever so much.

"Oh, come on, you two!" Tatsuki stepped in between us, holding out a box of cereal, "I'm going to need some help packing some food, huh Hime? And Ichigo, I'm sure the guys need your help with something."

I scowled lightly at her, feeling a bit upset about being interrupted, but before I could say anything Ichigo was already walking into the living room.

"Alright, Tatsuki. Whatever." He droned, obviously unenthusiastic about doing any sort of work.

Tatsuki leaned in towards me, "You guys have all weekend to talk," She whispered, "Right now, it would be really nice if you can help me out with the groceries instead!"

I sighed, then smiled, realizing that I did, in fact, have to whole weekend. Besides, I came to hang out with everyone, not just Ichigo.

"All right, Tatsuki," I said, walking into the pantry.

Twenty minutes later, we were ready to leave. We had packed everyone's things into one car, and all the beach gear into another, and piled into the vehicles. Ichigo was driving his own truck with all the guys, where Rukia was driving her car with the girls.

It was nice having a girls-only car, which meant that we could talk about girls stuff for as long as we wanted without hearing any complaining. Yet, while we sat there chatting about Tom Cruise and singing along to Disney Cartoon songs, my mind continued drifting off to thoughts of Ulquiorra. I felt terribly guilty, bringing my worries into a place where my worries weren't supposed to exist.

I hoped that I could keep my thoughts from my friends during the weekend.

_._

_._

_Chapter Three_

_End_

_._

* * *

><p>Arthur Miller's <em>The Crucible:<em> This was a play written in 1952 during the Second Red Scare. On the surface, the play was about the Salem Witch Trials of 1692, but the underlying meaning of the play related to the hunt for communists in america. The play is centered around Abigail Williams, a young girl in Salem, who had a previous affair with a farmer named John Proctor. Proctor's wife, Elizabeth finds out about the affair, so John decides to try and distance himself from Abigail in order to gain back his wife's trust. Angry, Abigail and a group of her friends decide to get Abigail's uncle's slave to teach them witchcraft, and the girls attempt to cast a spell on Proctor's wife. They are caught in the woods doing this by Abigail's uncle, Reverend Parris, and in order to escape punishment they began saying that they were only doing it because they were under the spell of other witches that resided within Salem.

Just in case any of you want to go read the play, or watch the movie, or something, I won't give away the ending. :)

Thomas Carlyle's _Signs of Times:_ This book was written in 1829, at the height of the industrial revolution. It expresses Carlyle's opinions on the mechanical world and how he feels it relates to society. Basically, it is an account of his opinion on industry and his feelings on how it was changing Britain.


	4. Chapter 4

_your tongue the tide your lips the shore i am the jetsam overboard_

_goodbye courage_

i christen all the ships that sailed on your little kisses' saliva trails

goodbye courage hello sadness again

little kisses come to pass then goodbye courage hello sadness

_it's only hope that springs eternal and that's the reason why this dripping from my broken heart is never running dry never running dry_

_- Hello Sadness, __**Los Campesinos!**_

.

_Devil_

_Chapter Four_

_._

_._

The sun beat down on, just as brutal as it had been for hours, as I patted down a clump on sand on the last remaining bit of skin on Renji who had fallen asleep long ago. Rukia stood up from her spot next to his feet, clapping her hands together to wipe of the sand.

"We did a good job, huh, Orihime?" She said, looking down at her sleeping masterpiece. I stood up next to her to take in the full picture. Renji was lying on his back, covered entirely in sand, from his toes to his neck. A pair of sunglasses lay over his eyes and his mouth was open wide as snores escaped him. I had no idea he was such a deep sleeper.

"Yeah, he looks great!" I said, smiling at her and dusting my knees off. Ichigo walked beside us to look down at the sleeping body, a loud bark of a laugh emitting from him after a moments pause.

"Oh my god!" He cried, clutching his stomach in laughter, "What an idiot! You guys are awesome!"

Rukia and I walked off to wash ourselves in the ocean, the sand having found its way to rather _uncomfortable_ places. The others had already began to congregate around Renji's sleeping form, laughing along with Ichigo at their friends misfortune.

We sat down in the water, letting the waves wash over us.

"That was a good idea, Rukia," I said, looking over at the girl who was splashing sea water on her arm.

"Thanks," She said, laughing, "I love playing pranks like this on him."

"It's his fault for falling asleep," I added, to which Rukia joyfully nodded in agreement.

We both sat there in silence for a moment, splashing water on ourselves, before we spoke again.

"So how's school?" I asked conversationally.

"It's been good," She replied, "It's just a hassle having to keep that monkey out of trouble."

"Is he really that much of a hassle?"

Rukia looked at me as if I was an idiot, and then we both broke out in laughter. It was like old times, as if we were back in high school, the two of us laughing like crazy over something that really wasn't even that funny.

"Orihime," Rukia said once our laughter had died down, "Can I ask you a… sort of personal question?"

"Sure. Anything." I replied.

Rukia leaned in, hesitation on her face as her eyes darted back and forth.

"It's okay if you don't want to answer this, but… what do you dream about?"

I was taken aback.

"What do you mean?"

"Well… last night, I woke up because I heard something, and there you were, writhing around in your bed and whimpering. I was about to wake you up but as soon as I got out of my bed you stopped and… well, it bothered me. Are you okay?"

I sat there, stunned. I didn't know that my dreams about Ulquiorra, the same recurring dreams in the Garden of Eden, was starting to seep into my reality. If Rukia knew about them now, then… well, I wasn't sure what to do. I wasn't even sure how to reply to her.

Maybe it was coincidence, or maybe I was just lucky, but at that moment Renji decided to wake up and scream as loud as he could as he thrashed around in his sand prison.

"Who the hell did this!" He yelled as he thrashed around, flinging sand in every direction. Rukia and I stood up to get out of his way as he sprinted down towards the water, almost flinging himself into the sea.

Rukia, despite our recent conversation, laughed heartily at her boyfriend and ran to meet him if only to calm him down.

I sighed, and turned to walk back to where the rest of the group was, finding a seat on my large, pink, beach towel. Rukia knew. Or, at least, she knew _something_ that could eventually turn into _everything_, and I didn't want to bring my friends into this dark part of my life that even I was scared to enter, to accept that it was real and not a work of fiction.

I had managed to keep Ulquiorra out of my mind for the past three days that we had been hear, except for in my dreams of course, but nonetheless those dream did not bring me down for that was all they were – just dreams. I was more focused on spending time with Tatsuki and Rukia and, even though I completely _failed at it_ – Ichigo.

Ichigo, Ichigo, Ichigo.

I had no idea how I had managed to avoid him for this vacation. I told myself I would talk to him, confess my feelings, if you will, but to no avail. I was afraid to approach him with an agenda, especially if that agenda included uttering my undying love and affection towards him.

Maybe I was just afraid of rejection. Yeah, that's it. Rejection.

Which reminded me that when I got back from this trip that I had a date with that… strange guy. What was his name… Greyjaw? Ugh, was a weird name.

I'm pretty sure that wasn't it, though.

I sighed, still upset, still confused, but strangely content. I narrowly escaped Rukia's interviews and it was a matter of time before she confided in, oh, I dunno, Uryu or something, and then Uryu will confront me and then when I ignore the question he'll just tell someone else and the cycle would continue.

"Why can't they just leave me alone…?"

"Why cant who leave you alone? You want me to kick someone's ass?"

Ichigo had seated himself right next to me in the sand, surprising me out of his thoughts. I was vaguely unaware that I had spoken that sentence and risked the idea of someone hearing, but strangely enough I didn't regret it. This gave me a chance to talk to the lovely red-head.

"The little blue people! Um… I'm sure I can take care of them myself!" I laughed quietly as a rare smile found it's way on Ichigo's face.

"Orihime," He said, "You're crazy, but you're cool. I liked what you and Rukia did to Renji, by the way."

"Yeah, that was Rukia's idea, though" I said, feeling my face turn red.

"Speaking of Rukia…" Ichigo trailed off, "She just told me something…"

Oh here it goes… the cycle has begun.

"She told me that a beach bonfire would be a good idea. What do you think?"

Oh good, I thought. False alarm.

"That sounds like a great idea!" I said excitedly, "We should do that!"

"Okay! Cool! I'm going to go tell everyone else!"

And Ichigo ran off to inform the rest of the gang, leaving me to continue to wallow in my thoughts.

* * *

><p><em>"Fate is like a strange, unpopular restaurant with odd little waiters who bring you things you never asked for and don't always like."<em> **-Lemony Snicket**

* * *

><p>I wasn't sure if Tatsuki and Rukia had planned something, or if she was just trying to be a good friend, but she made me spend hours getting dressed for the evening bonfire. All three of us had gotten a bit of tanned glow and were very drained by the days events, but nonetheless the other two girls had found a way to gain more energy while all I wanted to do was sleep until the sun went down.<p>

"Orihime, you _have_ to wear this!" Rukia yelled, tossing me another one of the sundresses I had packed. Tatsuki pulled the dress out of my hands, throwing a different one into my face.

"No! That one's too bright for her new tan! She needs to wear something darker like this!"

And it went on like that for about an hour and a half until they decided on the simplest of outfits – a pair of shorts with a grey tank top and a forest green cardigan.

"Can I sleep now?" I asked once I had adorned the aforementioned clothing.

"NO!" Tatsuki and Rukia snapped. In unison, might I add. I had never been so frightened of the two of them before.

"We have to do your hair!" Rukia said, pulling me into the bathroom. "Tatsuki, you get dressed! I'll handle this!"

Another forty-five minutes and my hair was set into a long lovely braid, and although I admired it fully I was still completely and utterly exhausted. While my two friends got ready for the bonfire, I laid on the couch in the hotel and slept.

And another dream came.

This time, though, I wasn't in a forest, but instead floating amongst the clouds. I could walk on top of the pillow-like objects and not fall through them. It was magnificent as I looked down upon the cities and towns and oceans below. By far, the best moment in a dream I had ever had.

Then, I suddenly felt myself sinking through the cloud, slowly as if I was standing in quicksand. I tried to run away from the sinking clouds but I kept being lowered more and more into the watery bit of air.

Then I fell completely through, watching the earth as it opened up beneath me into a red, fiery abyss, and just as I was about to touch the large flames below, I screamed.

And was shaken awake by Rukia.

"Orihime? Are you okay! Orihime!"

"W… what?"

"You were screaming!" Tatsuki said as she appeared by Rukia's side.

"I… I was?"

"Yes!"

I sat up, rubbing my head, utterly confused.

"I'm sorry… I just had a falling dream and I guess I got so scared I screamed in real life." I said to them, noticing the worry in their eyes. Neither of them looked convinced of my safety, but nodded their heads and agreed anyways.

"Okay, Orihime. Whatever."

And they went to continue getting dressed.

It took them about fifteen minutes to get ready before we were heading out to the beach to meet the guys. It was rather easy to find them, since they were already starting on the fire and were absolutely failing at it.

"Okay… so… we have wood, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Okay… fuck, how do you light a match?"

"God you're dumb. Let me see."

"Shit! Is that magic or something."

"I hope you're kidding…"

"He's probably not."

"Whatever. Lighter fluid?"

"Got it."

"FUCK!"

"What did we just burn your eyebrows? Oh wait… you don't have any."

"Shut up!"

"I'll shut up when you make me, dumbass!"

"Oh, you're calling me a dumbass? NO! You're the dumbass!"

"Will both of you STOP ARGUING!" Tatsuki yelled at the top of her lungs, causing all four boys to look at her with a hint of fear in their eyes.

It was Ichigo and Renji that had been arguing, and both of their fists were raised in anger – or maybe it was because they were about to punch each other in the face. I really didn't care because we were all there, the fire was burning, and Chad was sliding a marshmallow onto a stick.

I LOVE roasting marshmallows. Really, you have no idea how much I love them. I love roasting marshmallows so much that when I was ten, I started crying once the bag of marshmallows was empty.

I jumped on Chad, yelping excited questions at him.

"Marshmallows! I want one! Where are they? Ooooo! This looks like this will be funnnn!"

I jumped onto a rock, sliding my marshmallow onto a stick and hovering it over the fires as it slowly toasted to a golden brown. I shoved the roasted treat in my mouth just as Ichigo walked over towards me.

"Can I sit on this… rock with you?"

"Mhmffh yefhsh shuur." I said between gooey bites of marshmallow.

Ichigo smiled, sitting down with a marshmallow stick in his hand. "I guess that means yes."

I loaded another marshmallow on the stick, hovering it over the flame yet again.

"So is this was we're going to be doing all night?" I asked him in an attempt to make conversation. Ichigo shrugged.

"We didn't really plan anything except this. I guess whatever happens, happens, you know?"

"Yeah," I said, pulling the marshmallow out of the flame and stuffing it into my mouth.

"You must love these things," Ichigo said. I nodded, not being able to speak with my mouth full. He laughed at what I was sure looked like a chipmunk face, with my mouth full of melted marshmallow. I smiled back at him, swallowing the treat as best I could.

"You're hilarious, Orihime."

"Thanks. You're funny, too."

We all sat there in a group for an hour or two, talking and chatting and having a blast in the light of the fire. We told scary stories and danced around the fire like Indians. It was a crazy night, and the whole time I continued thinking about how strange Rukia and Tatsuki was acting, and about how talkative Ichigo was.

It even boggled me more when Ichigo asked me if I wanted to go with him on a walk down the beach. Well, it actually excited me just at much as it made me think '_what?'._

As he and I walked off from the crowd, I saw out of the corner of my eye Tatsuki grinning madly and Rukia giggling into her palm.

The moon was almost full, shining like a light on the beach. Ichigo and I walked off until the flame from the bonfire was just a small light in the distance. At first, it was all small talk.

"I haven't talked to you in forever."

"Yeah, I know. How are you?"

"I'm good. Just floating through school. You?"

"Same here… I'm in the college play, you know."

"Really? Cool. What's the play?"

"The Crucible."

"Never heard of it."

"Oh."

"Sorry. I'm sure you're great in it, though."

"How's the drumline?"

"It's going good. It's kind of weird being the only freshman on snare line, though."

"Hey, snare line is cool. Who cares, right?"

"Yeah. I guess you're right."

And it went on like that. I took my shoes off and decided to run around in the small waves, Ichigo laughing at me as I fell over multiple times (He helped me up each time, though). It was rather… romantic. Maybe this was what Tatsuki and Rukia were planning, I thought as we decided to sit on a large piece of dry driftwood.

"I don't think I've ever told you this, " Ichigo began, looking out into the dark ocean, "But you're a really sweet person."

"Well thank you," I said, blushing. My heart was beating fast. Not the kind of fast I get around Ulquiorra, this fast was… different.

Wait. I shouldn't be thinking about that man. Not right now.

I mentally shook my head and turned my attention back to Ichigo who had continued talking.

"I didn't notice until recently how… lovely you are."

Now I felt butterflies in my stomach.

Ichigo turned to me, his bottle-brown eyes shining in the moonlight as the light beach breeze rustled his messy hair.

"To be completely honest," He said, "I think I might… well… I –"

"Love you?" I interrupted him, knowing full well what was on his mind, for that same thought had been on my mind since I had met the red-haired man.

"Yeah. Is that weird?" He asked.

I had been waiting for this moment for so long, and I was so ready to hear those words come from him, but… I was suddenly having doubts. If he had maybe told me this sooner… when we were in High School, maybe I would have said yes, but now…

Now it's as if I feel like I've already wasted too much time on him.

"Ichigo…" I said, looking up at him, unsure exactly how to put my feeling into words, "I… You're a great guy. Well… I just… want to be friends for now, I guess."

His face fell, and I felt my heart constrict.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Okay then… That's fine, I understand." Ichigo said, standing, "Do you want to walk back to the fire? It's kind of cold."

"Sure." I said, standing up to walk with him.

I replayed the conversation in my head, thinking about the reasoning behind my answer, and although I kept telling myself that it was because he told me he loved me years to late but the more I thought about it, the more I found myself thinking:

_It's because I might love someone else._

_._

_._

_Chapter Four_

_End_

_._

* * *

><p>Yes. Ichigo marches on the college drumline. It just seems like something he would do that's more practical than like... a karate team or something.<p>

Cause those drumline kids are beasts. I should know, I'm one of them. ;D

Anyways, nothing too fancy here. No Ulquiorra, no Grimmjow, so I'm sorry I'm not letting you in on what they're doing the whole time. Maybe later.

I'm also very VERY sorry for the late update. A month is along time, but that whole month I had terrible writers block. I wrote literally this entire chapter just now, out of spontaneity. I also wrote an entire chapter to a new Beauty and the Beast based UlquiHime Fan Fiction... but I think I'm going to wait until I'm done with _Devil_ first.

Also, Los Campesinos! is my favorite band, so you may see them pop up every now and then. They're great live, I saw them in concert back in February. They're lead singer jumped into the crowed and almost ran me over (i was right in front of the stage). He also replied to my tweet about it. Made my day forreals.

Hope you enjoyed! Please, review. (:


	5. Chapter 5

_"I thought I understood it, that I could grasp it,_

_but I didn't. Not really. Only the smudginess of it;_

_the pink-slippered, all-containered, semi-precious eagerness of it._

_I didn't realize it would sometimes be more than whole,_

_that the wholeness was a rather luxurious idea._

_Because it's the halves that halve you in half._

_I didn't know, don't know, about the in between bits;_

_the gory bits of you, and the gory bits of me."_

_**- Like Crazy, 2011**_

_._

_Devil_

_Chapter Five_

_._

_._

The days were growing longer and longer and Ulquiorra found it much more difficult to proceed in his mission, just as he found it much more difficult to deal with his new "assistant", who, much to Ulquiorra's relief, spent most of his day and night outside of the small, meager apartment. Grimmjow's tantrums were getting annoying and intolerable, and so when he'd storm out of the room with a cry of _"This is a shitty place! Like hell I'll spend my time in here!" _Ulquiorra found it rather enjoyable.

Quiet. That was all he wanted, and with Grimmjow gone most of the days and nights, that was what he usually got. Though, on the rare occasion when _the nuisance_ was inside the apartment, silence was the last thing on his mind. In these times, Grimmjow put Ulquiorra on his last nerve.

Ulquiorra was even positive that out of all the activities Grimmjow was engaging himself in, not one of them had to do with their mission. This only deepened Ulquiorra's hate for Grimmjow more. Though Ulquiorra would rather work alone, he found it rude that his comrade wasn't even doing the minimal help with the mission. Ulquiorra found himself muttering profanities under his breath more and more, something that was very out of character for him. He was usually very calm and collected, and never let his emotions get the better of him, but this – this was just getting out of hand.

He sighed, glad that he was alone in the apartment for the time being, assured that Grimmjow would not be back until the early hours of the morning. He estimated that he had about ten hours until the bluenette would return, giving him ten hours of peace, ten hours to do his work, ten hours to do the job he was sent to do.

The green eyed man looked down at his book, the tattered thing he had bought at the book store the woman work, continuing his nightly reading. He was secretly glad that his target was so close with books, for he always enjoyed reading in his free time. In fact, it was probably one of the few guilty pleasures he engulfed himself in regularly. Ulquiorra had entered the shop a few times within the last few days, in an attempt to see the young girl again, but only browsed the shelves when he realized the woman was not working.

Orihime. That was her name, if he could recall correctly. A name fitting for a princess, he thought whenever he saw her. She humored him when he would walk into the bookshop or see her around the small college town, for he always noticed her small gestures and smiling face. She seemed rather foolish to him at times, though, he noticed her never-ending acts of kindness and joy, for to him it seemed impossible that someone could ever be that happy of a person. He thought her to be either very daft, or very sheltered, perhaps both.

Nonetheless, he would find himself whispering her name to himself, letting it roll off his tongue, as it slowly became a sort of mannerism that Ulquiorra attributed to his nightly activities. He had no idea what it was exactly that fascinated him with this girl, the young college student he was mean to retrieve, to betray, to manipulate, to _break._ He observed her as the pawn in a much bigger game, a simple piece of a puzzle, a fragment.

In a sense, and this thought disturbed him the most, he didn't want to see her – this young, innocent, doe-eyed girl – in complete disarray. He did not want to show her a world as dark, frightening and adulterated as his own. He did not want to be the person to taint her, yet that was his job, weather he liked it or not.

No, he did not want to blemish something so pure, yet he found her purity disgusting. He saw her childish demeanor as weak and an annoyance. Her happiness was a burden. Her smiles were unnecessary. He wanted to break her, he wanted to destroy her, he wanted to turn her into a shell of her former self – a lifeless, heartless, joyless being, yet he knew that he couldn't. That was not his job. He would fulfill his duty as a servant, and bring her in chains, on hands and knees, unharmed and untouched, to his master, and he would be rewarded for it.

Ulquiorra shut his book slowly, taking in a deep breath, the face of the young girl ever present in his mind. He imagined her as she was, then imagined her as she will be. He imagined him standing above her as she stared up at him in submission, and he imagined –

A frantic knock on the door brought him out of his musings.

Ulquiorra stood up and glided over to the door as the knocking became even more urgent and as soon as he turned the door handle, a large body rushed inside.

Grimmjow laughed.

"Shit, shit, SHIT! Ulquiorra! Haha, FUCK! You're not going to fucking believe this shit! God DAMN!"

Grimmjow clutched his stomach, almost falling over as Ulquiorra closed the door shut, a look of indifference on his face. He wrinkled his nose in annoyance and walked over to his comrade, his hands grasped behind his back.

"Grimmjow, I'm sure whatever happened is not as interesting as you think it is." Ulquiorra retorted, his eyes glaring down at his blue haired companion.

"No, no, no. You've got to fucking trust me, man. This is big. BIG. It involves that girl, fucking princess." Grimmjow barked out, still laughing, still not yet composed.

"In that case, I would rather not hear it, Grimmjow." Ulquiorra said, pausing silently and contemplating his next words carefully before decided to say them anyways, "And her name is _Orihime._"

"Shit man, sorry. It's about _Orihime,_ and why wouldn't you want to hear 'bout this! I thought she was your job!"

"Yes, but knowing you, it will be a piece of useless information that I would not really need."

"I'm gonna fucking say it anyways, bro."

"Grimmjow-"

"Weather you fucking like it or not."

"Please don't-"

"Interrupt you? Yeah, well fuck you and just listen, cause you'll be glad you heard this shit." Grimmjow said, beginning to get a bit upset at his comrade, walking past Ulquiorra and flopping on the couch, stretching out like a feline of the piece of furniture.

"Alright, freak, this is what happened. You ready? Good shit. Well, I was doing some research on her, yeah? Like, I fucking hacked into the college mainframe to get some shit on her academic life, you follow? Well, I came across that she's a theater major – though I already fucking knew that – but then I noticed who the theater professor was, and shit man it blew my mind. You'll never fucking guess. But it's not like I'm going to even fucking _let _you guess.

"Anyways, she's a theater major, fucking bueno, and her theater professor is – wait for it – fucking Kisuke Urahara! Kisuke _goddamn_ Urahara! That little bastard is still fucking alive! He even looks the same and fucking everything! Still wears that same damn hat, too."

Now, that caught Ulquiorra's attention and although he didn't want to admit it, he was fairly glad that Grimmjow had decided to show up. Kisuke Urahara… not _dead?_ Well, this was news. News that, Ulquiorra felt, needed to be informed to his master.

"It blew my mind!" Grimmjow continued, his hand motions adding to his speech, "I mean, I fucking saw Stark kill the bitch. With my own two eyes, and it a surprise to me cause I saw all that fucking blood everywhere and that body without it's fucking head. I mean, it sucks he's alive, but how the _hell_ could he be alive? It's fucking insane!"

"Well, Grimmjow," Ulquiorra said, already beginning to scribble on a piece of parchment, "Despite my doubts, it seems you have become a good asset."

Grimmjow scoffed, crossing his arms over his broad chest, "It's not like I was looking for your fucking approval or anything. I'm just doing my goddamn job, and shit it's getting interesting."

"I agree."

"Yeah, I can tell. You're enthusiasm is contagious," Grimmjow said, with a murmur of _'you emotionless bastard'._

Ulquiorra heard the sarcasm in his comrade's voice, but decided to not acknowledge it, knowing full well that there were more important matters at hand.

"And, hey, guess what else?" Grimmjow said with a bit of renewed enthusiasm. Ulquiorra vaguely motioned for the blue-haired man to continue, "I got a date with her.

Ulquiorra stopped what he was doing and slowly turned his head to look at Grimmjow. He was completely confused. Why, he thought, would Grimmjow deem it necessary to go out with the girl they were hunting? He was mad, though his face didn't show that emotion at all. Mad, because of how completely childish Grimmjow was, and how he was treating the mission as a game, but mostly – and this was the thing that bothered him the most – he was jealous.

"Really?" Was all Ulquiorra could think to say that wouldn't give away his true feelings and thoughts. Grimmjow nodded, a grin forming its way onto his features.

"Yep. I'm doing it, tonight. _We're_ doing it tonight."

"We're doing _it._" Ulquiorra said, not at all convinced that Grimmjow was telling the truth.

"Yeah. I'm going to take her out, show her a good time, you know, then invite her back here. If she says no, I'll _insist_ she come by and once she's here we'll take her with us. It'll be the easiest fucking thing in the world."

The plan, in Ulquiorra's eyes, was flawed very much but, he figured, that now wasn't a bad time to take action. Plus, he was sure that their boss was getting rather impatient. He went back to scribbling on the piece of parchment, yet again indifferent on the situation.

"Do whatever you want, Grimmjow. As long as she comes back with us, I'm sure It'll be fine."

Grimmjow scoffed, "God, I got this all figured out and you're still being a prick about everything."

He scribbled even more, not replying to Grimmjow who, after realizing that the green-eyed man was not going to talk any more, stormed out of the apartment without another word.

Ulquiorra finished the letter in a matter of minutes, holding the note up to his face to read through it, to see if it was appropriate for his boss.

_There has been very little advancement in this mission since the last time I wrote. The girl has not been seen for days, which is a bit of a disappointment. Grimmjow, up until recently, has been bothersome and rude, yet just a few moments ago he informed me of something rather interesting._

_It seems that Kisuke Urahara is still alive and well despite the speculations of his death years ago. Grimmjow informed me that he works at the collage the woman attends as the teacher of her major: Theater. This is something I feel you should know. I speculate that he may have knowledge of your plans; to what extent I am not entirely sure. He may be playing as a sort of protector for the girl, something that could turn up troublesome in the future. Then again, it could just be a coincidence and he possesses no idea of any of this planning. Both theories are possible. I suggest we pay more attention to this man from here, forward, and I ask that you contemplate sending in at least one more of the guard for reinforcements, if needed._

_Grimmjow and I plan to bring her to you before the morning. Hopefully, if all goes well, our plans will succeed._

_Ulquiorra Cifer._

Ulquiorra nodded to himself, finding the letter suitable, before striking a match and setting the parchment aflame.

* * *

><p><em>"You go to hell!"<em>

_"You first."_

**- Tombstone, 1993**

* * *

><p>The ride home was never ending for me, and I couldn't help but feel guilty as Tatsuki continued to bring up my encounter with Ichigo at their bonfire the evening before.<p>

"Why did you say no? I thought you loved him, Orihime!"

Yes. Loved, past tense. I loved Ichigo. But, this attraction, this _infatuation_ I felt with the dark haired, pale, green-eyed man was more appealing to me, more interesting, more dangerous. I wanted danger, I wanted uneasiness, and I wanted change – Ichigo was not that change I needed.

Maybe I was just being foolish to pass up an opportunity that I had been begging for for years, but I was so confused and frightened by the sudden involvement of Ulquiorra. It seemed as if this man had just decided to walk into my life in a surprising time and complicate things to a terrible point. Yet, I needed him. I knew I needed him, but I didn't know why. It felt like my body was attracted towards him, and I wanted more, like I was physically and mentally _drawn_ to him.

"Well," I began, anxiously, trying to cover up my internal epiphany, "I just don't think now is the right time."

"Of course it's the right time!" Rukia snapped, "Do you have any idea how completely perfect you two would be?"

Yes. I did have an idea, but my idea wasn't one of perfection. It was far from it, very far from it. See, I had realized that while the idea of me and Ichigo being a couple looked flawless on the surface, deep down we were too different. Perhaps one day, if things change, if feelings change, then something could happen between us, but right now…

"I told you. Right now, it just doesn't seem… right."

Tatsuki and Rukia sighed in unison, as if fed up with my excuses. I don't blame them, I would be annoyed as well. I could feel the tension in the car, and I was beginning to feel somewhat disappointed in, not only myself for allowing my friendships to become this complicated, but in my two best friends for making such a big deal out of something that shouldn't be very important in the first place. It was just a crush. So what?

Then, suddenly, without warning, Tatsuki decided to bring up another pressing discussion.

"Orihime, have you been sleeping well?"

I looked at her, knowing that my eyes were probably bugging out of my skull completely. At first, I was shocked, and I couldn't think straight. I didn't know what to do, should I tell my two friends the truth or should I make up another lie? It seems as if Tatsuki wouldn't take _just bad dreams_ as a suitable answer this time and I sighed, about to open my mouth.

"Well, Tatsuki, I…" I stuttered but she quickly interrupted me.

"Don't you dare tell me they're just bad dreams, Hime. That's bullshit."

I gulped, shifting uncomfortably in my seat.

"Tatsuki, you're being kind of harsh," Rukia said before turning to look me with concern written on her features, "You can tell us whenever you feel comfortable, but we really are worried about you, Orihime."

"Yeah," I said, "Well, I mean, I just don't know how to talk about it."

"Well then, you go ahead whenever you're ready," Rukia said, turning back around in her seat. The car was silent, as if the two of them had decided to respect my privacy. It was nice, since usually they would be pestering me until I had spilled the beans but this time they were treating me less like a child. It was a refreshing feeling.

After minutes of complete silence I finally took a deep breath and decided to tell them about the man, about Ulquiorra.

"There's this guy…" I began, but both girls gasped and interrupted me rather quickly.

"Another guy?"

"Woah, really!"

"Is he cute?"

"Are y'all dating?"

"Does he know you like him?"

"It's complicated," I finally said, calming them down. "He comes to the bookstore a lot and all I really know is his name and that he likes books and stuff."

"That's cute!" Rukia said.

"But how does that have anything to do with your weird sleeping shit?" Tatsuki interjected.

"Well, ever since he came in the store I've been having this weird dreams and he is almost always in them."

"By weird, do you mean _weird,"_ Tatsuki said, winking suggestively in my direction. Rukia giggled, and I couldn't help but laugh along.

"No, not like that," I said, still laughing, "They're more like… nightmares. It's really hard to explain…"

"Well, what happens in these nightmares?" Rukia asked solicitously.

So I quickly explained to them the few dreams I had about Ulquiorra. Though, I kept out details such as the theological discussions we had and the references to the Garden of Eden and the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. I explained how it felt, how it didn't frighten me at all to see the black tear marks on Ulquiorra's face or how falling from the high cloud onto the fiery ground felt like flying. By the time I was finished, both Tatsuki and Rukia looked either pain-stricken or confused. Tatsuki was the first to speak once I had finished recalling the abnormally vivid dreams.

"I don't think you should see this guy anymore." She said, not tearing her eyes from the road in front of her, "Dreams are pretty important. It's your subconscious trying to tell you something, you know? I think you're subconscious is trying to tell you this guy is bad news."

I looked down at my hands, picking at my nails as I realized that Tatsuki may be right. Maybe he was bad news, but… outside of those strange dreams he seemed like a nice, smart, normal guy. But maybe I was only telling myself this because I didn't want to believe my best friend.

* * *

><p>I had almost forgotten, it had easily slipped my mind, and I'm sure it wouldn't have made a difference if I just stayed at home and ate ice cream all day, but my conscious wouldn't let me. So, here I was, about two hours after returning from the beach, sprinting towards the pizza place that blue-hair guy had invited me out to. And I was dreading it.<p>

I walked quickly, hurriedly, clutching onto my purse with my left hand and keeping my right arm stiff against my side. I was filled with anxiety and worry – was he already there? Had he been waiting long? I felt like I was in high school all over again.

Nonetheless, I continued taking deep breaths and telling myself to calm down and that I was acting stupid. I didn't even like the guy, in fact I barely even knew him, so why was I worried about this date?

Though, I didn't really want to call it a date. It _wasn't_ a date… was it?

No. No, no, no, no. I shook my head as I crossed the road onto 5th street, looking around for the pizza parlor that he had invited me to. God, if I didn't remember his name I was going to completely embarrass myself.

Finally, I walked up to the small restaurant. It looked rather nice and clean despite the fact it had been in the same spot for as long as I could remember. The windows were still the same, the shades were still the same, and there were still a few tables with umbrellas placed just outside on the parlor's patio. He was sitting at one of them, one hand propping up his chin as the other held a small, laminated menu.

For a moment I hesitated, wondering weather I should walk up to him or just walk away, for suddenly I had felt fear run up my spine. Yet, I couldn't leave him there alone. The sun was already beginning to set, and who _knew_ how long he had been waiting. I cursed my forgetfulness as I forced myself to take a step forward and march up to him, taking a seat at the table across from his. He looked up from the menu and smiled.

"Hey, I was beginning to worry," He said grinning, placing the menu on the table and directing his attention towards me, "I was about to call and report a missing person."

"Yeah, sorry," I said, laughing awkwardly as I hung my purse on my chair and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, "I almost forgot. My memory isn't too good, so…" I let the sentence hang when I noticed him suppress a laugh.

"You almost forgot? I'm a bit hurt." I could hear the sarcasm in his voice as he gave me an obviously fake frown. I couldn't help but laugh a little bit at that. He was, after all, a bit funny.

"So," He said, after we had calmed down from our laughter, "I already ordered cause I wasn't sure you were coming. I got Hawaiian, but if you want something else I can get another–"

"Oh, god, I _love_ Hawaiian!" I said excitedly, cutting him off unexpectedly. I was no longer feeling anxious or frightened. If this guy liked Hawaiian pizza, then he was definitely my new best friend. Again, he laughed – he seemed to be doing that a lot.

"Alright, good." He said.

The pizza came soon after that, filled with extra cheese and extra pineapple. Grimmjow (His name finally came to me about halfway through the date) had made very good conversation. He wasn't one of those guys who just talked about themselves the whole time or about football or something. He asked genuine questions and talked about real interesting things. Eventually, the pizza had been completely finished, and I was about ready to go back to my apartment and go to sleep, but Grimmjow wouldn't let me.

"It's too early for us to end the night!" He said as we walked past some of the bars on the street that were just beginning to open. Music poured through the doors of the clubs and more people were beginning to crowd the streets and I was beginning to feel out of place.

"No, I really don't want to go to a bar or anything," I said, "It's not my kind of thing to do."

"What?" He said, taken aback, "No, I figured you wouldn't be a clubbing person. I mean we could just walk around for a little bit. You can come by my apartment. I'm sure my roommate wouldn't mind."

I looked at him, thinking about the idea, weighing the pros and cons. So far he had seemed like such a gentleman, I was sure he had good intentions but I was a bit wary of going to his house so late at night.

"I… I don't know," I stuttered, feeling my face flush slightly, but when I felt him put a strong, muscular arm around my waist I knew that I must have looked absolutely red.

"Oh, come on, please!" He begged, pulling my closer to him, "I live just down the street, and I can give you a ride home whenever you want. Its no big deal."

I looked at him, still feeling skeptical as I looked into a pair of sparkling blue eyes and suddenly I felt as if all of my worries had been lifted off me. No longer did I have the fear of isolation, the fear of being followed and watch, I didn't even feel fear for Ulquiorra, and that liberation, that _freedom_ was what made me look at him and say "yes."

_._

_._

_Chapter Five_

_End_

_._

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><p>Alright. Maybe now the plot can finally start in the next chapter. This was a lot longer than my other chapters, by the way. Cool, huh?<p>

Also, have you seen _Like Crazy_? Great film.

_Tombstone_ is a good film, too. I thought it was a horror film when I was ten and my dad asked me if I wanted to watch it but, surprisingly, it is a western.

Review? (:


	6. Chapter 6

"_The mind is in it's own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven…"_

**John Milton**, _Paradise Lost_

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Devil

Chapter Six

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She hadn't been in classes. She hadn't been home. She hadn't been at work. She hadn't answered her phone calls. Ichigo was beginning to worry. Never had Orihime just left without telling anyone. She wasn't the kind of person to do that, and it was beginning to scare him as well as the others. Tatsuki was trying to oppress her anger but wasn't doing a very good job of it, and Rukia, who had taken to calling for updates on the situation, had taken to tearing up every time Orihime was mentioned in conversation.

It was like she just disappeared.

Fallen off the face of the planet.

Poof.

Just… poof.

Gone.

None of them knew what to do. They had never experienced anything like this before, and especially not with someone as bright as Orihime. Her absence made everything seem dull and dark and strange. When the friends saw each other there would be no joy in their conversations. There was always the unspoken question that showed in their despairing eyes, _where is she?_

Finally, Ichigo had enough of all the silence. He was so confused and angered at the fact that none of their friends had tried to look for her. He wasn't about to let someone who he knew his whole life to just stay missing. His loyalty to his friends was strong, and he was determined to do _something_ to try to find Orihime. This was why he found himself angrily knocking on Tatsuki's apartment door a few days after Orihime had gone missing.

It wasn't too late at night, no later than midnight at least, and yet Tatsuki answered the door in her pajamas with tousled hair and heavy eyelids.

"Ichigo?" She mumbled out, his appearance waking her up slightly.

"Can I come in?" He asked in a tone that sounded very urgent. Tatsuki stepped to the side to allow him in, closing the door as he passed her on his way into the room.

He flopped down on her loveseat as Tatsuki sat herself in a recliner. The two sat there in an awkward silence for a few moments.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"No. Thanks. I'm fine."

"Okay."

Still, the same silence, the tension thick in the air. Tatsuki could tell something was wrong with Ichigo, but she didn't want to pry into his business. Either way, she was sure she already knew why he was upset. It was the same reason why she hadn't been able to get any sleep the past few nights.

Orihime. She thought of her friend, of her smile, of her laughter. She was so scared that her friend had ended up in a ditch somewhere, dead. She shivered at the thought of it.

"Tatsuki." Ichigo finally said, causing the aforementioned girl to raise her head in his direction. He looked defeated, his shoulders hunched forward, his eyes covered in dark circles. He must not be sleeping very well either, Tatsuki thought. Then he looked at her, a gleam in his chocolate brown eyes as he stared her straight on with a look that seemed all the harsh and angry for a guy like Ichigo. Tatsuki wasn't sure if she was looking at the same person she knew through high school. Then he spoke, just a few words were all he said, but those few words made Tatsuki's heart start to race.

"I want to find Orihime."

* * *

><p>"Uryu! My good boy! Do you have a class in the near future? No? Well, then, could you step into my office, please?"<p>

Uryu was not in the mood to be pestered by his theater professor. He was too upset by Orihime's disappearance. He had gone to talk to the police about it, and they did a quick yet thorough investigation, and still there were no leads. He hadn't spoken to anyone from the police station about the incident for a few days, and was planning on a visit once he finished his classes for the day.

They needed to find her, and he didn't have time to talk to his Theater professor about whatever costume designs he wanted next or what restaurant Uryu would suggest for dinner or any other strange question the man could think of, yet Uryu reluctantly strode to the backstage area and into the small office which Kisuke was already seated.

Uryu walked lazily to his seated professor, "Yes, Kisuke?" he asked in the most polite way he could.

"Uryu! Sit down, please!"

Uryu frowned, taking a reluctant seat in the adjacent chair, and crossing his arms. The rooms wasn't completely disorganized, just a bit cluttered. A bookshelf stood in the corner of the room, filled with various books and binders containing the writings of various plays, copies of old scripts, layouts for various set designs, and calendars. The blonde man in front of him was grinning ear to ear, sipping at a can of soda. If it was possible, Uryu frowned even more.

"Sir," Uryu began, "I don't been to interrupt but I am in kind of a rush,"

"Ah, yes!" Urahara said, slamming the half-full can of soda onto his desk with glee, "My apologies! I was under the impression that you had time!"

"Ah, I do, but –"

"Oh good! Then let me go ahead and begin!" Urahara cleared this throat as Uryu mentally rolled his eyes. _This guy has something seriously wrong with him_.

"You are friends with Miss Inoue, correct?"

"Um, yeah."

"Then you must have _some_ idea where she ran off to this past week! Usually she comes by my office once a day to talk about her roll and offering her help with set painting and things like that, but I haven't seen her at all."

"I don't have any idea where she could be." Uryu said. And he didn't. She hadn't called any of them in days, and while he tried to hide it, he was truly worried.

Kisuke looked at him, a sparkle in his eyes as if waiting for Uryu to say something, but the student just sat there with an eyebrow raised. After a while, Kisuke finally sighed and scratched the top of his head.

"Renji and Rukia haven't told you yet, have they?"

This perked Uryu's attention. "How do you know Renji and Rukia?"

Kisuke continued to murmur under his breath, "They should have thought to have told you kids. This could be serious…"

"What could be serious?" At this point, Uryu was leaning in, his hands gripping the edge of the desk so hard that his knuckles were beginning to turn white. If his professor – no matter how creepy it seemed – knew something about what happened to Orihime then he needed to know.

Kisuke looked at Uryu with a look that the student had never seen before, a hard and serious look, very much unlike the cheery grin the professor usually wore. He turned in his rolling chair and locked the door, something that caused a sense of unease to shoot through his spine.

"Now, this first bit of information may come to you as a shock." Kisuke said, clasping his hands together as Uryu tried his best to relax despite the anxiety he felt. "Now, Uryu… Do you believe in Angels?"

* * *

><p>Rukia and Renji had already returned to their own college, their dorms just as clean as they had left them (well, at least Rukia's half of the room was clean). Both of their spirits had fallen since they had arrived home to a phone call from Ichigo telling them of Orihime's disappearance. Their hearts had been broken at the news, and neither of them had spoken more than a sentence to each other since then.<p>

Renji was out attending class as Rukia sat in their small apartment working on an essay she had due in a few hours. Her mind, though, was not on the analysis of John Milton's _Paradise Lost, _but instead on her friend.

Rukia was feeling guilty. She knew something like this would happen eventually, despite all the people they had placed around the girl. All the divine help. But none of it worked, it seemed, if she had gone missing. She wondered if Kisuke knew about it yet, which he probably did if he was her theater professor. She wondered if anyone was working to do anything to fix it. If they were, then they obviously hadn't told her or Renji anything. She was beginning to worry. What if they had forgotten about her?

The purest soul in the world.

Didn't that mean anything to anyone?

If that power got into the wrong hands – which it seems that it _has _– who knew what would happen? The war between good and evil may finally be over and her and her comrades would find themselves forced between switching sides or an eternal torture.

She should have said something, Rukia thought, when she mentioned those weird dreams. Rukia slapped herself over the head.

"I should have asked her what the guys name was! That would have helped so much!"

But what _could_ she do, she suddenly thought. Rukia was no solider, no fighter. She was merely a guardian angel, never meant to fight but to protect. She felt her heart constrict in her chest. If she failed to protect Orihime then she was probably the sorriest Guardian Angel there was.

Rukia hardly felt the tear roll down her cheek.

"Oh, Orihime," she whispered quietly to herself as she stared down at her copy of Paradise Lost, "Please, _please_ be okay."

Renji stepped into the room, worry apparent on his face. It was obvious to Rukia that the same thoughts had been running through his head as well. He looked at her, eyebrows furrowing over her tears, which she wiped away quickly. She sniffled and whispered quietly, "Renji. We have to go back."

"Do you really think something this bad happened?"

"I _know_ something bad has happened. I can feel it in my gut, and…" She couldn't say anymore as she found herself sobbing into her palm. Renji sighed, looking down at his feet and stuffing his hands into the pockets of his grey sweatpants.

"Rukia. You have to be positive about this." He said, his voice becoming serious, "If there is another fluke between you and I, the boss will have our heads."

She looked at him, her eyes still watery from tears, but a newfound fury and determination shining in them nonetheless.

"Renji," She said, an explicit tone in her voice, "I am sure."

* * *

><p>"<strong>Did perpetual happiness in the Garden of Eden maybe get so boring that eating the apple was justified?"<strong> _– Chuck Palahniuk_

* * *

><p>"Demons?"<p>

Uryu was dumbfounded. Angels? Demons? It didn't make sense, but here his professor was looking at him with such a serious, intense look that it forced Uryu to believe the man's claim.

"So you are…?"

"An Angel, yes."

"But," Uryu pondered, "What does this have to do with Orihime."

Kisuke took a deep breath, as if preparing himself for a long speech.

"Orihime," He began, "Was a one in a billion human who was born with a pure soul. In the angelic world, a person with a pure soul is almost entirely perfect and must be protected at all cost from the adulterated nature of the world. There are never any more than two, or three in the rarest cases, pure souls in the entire universe at once. They have the greatest potential as spiritual beings and are usually quite in tune with themselves and the energy around them.

"Sadly, this also causes some problems. See, while a pure soul cannot easily be tainting, it can still be stolen and obtained by a demon who possesses great amounts of power. If any demon is able to digest a pure soul, why then they themselves would become just as invincible and powerful as God. Satan, who you may know as the devil, has tried and tried since the beginning of time to attain a pure soul. But, his plans are always thwarted by people like me and Rukia and Renji, who act as guardian angels."

"So, you are her guardian angel."

"Yes."

"And it is very much possible that she was taken by a demon."

"That's right."

"Bull shit."

This caught Kisuke off guard as Uryu stood, slinging his back-pack over his shoulder and staring down at the man with a fiery look.

"My friend is missing, and you're going to sit there and tell me fairy tales? Fuck you."

Uryu slammed the door behind him.

* * *

><p>Ulquiorra strolled through the corridors of the castle in his natural attire. He was glad to have gotten rid of the suffocating human clothes he was forced to wear for the past few weeks and change into his very own tunic and cloak. The castle guards snapped to attention as he walked by, though he refused to acknowledge them as he passed.<p>

His heart pounded in his chest as he approached a pair of large wooden doors and excitement flooded through him, though his expression remained impassive just the same. A guard opened the door for him and Ulquiorra saw the throne room open up before him.

Large stone pillars lined the room, tables filled with feasts of whatever kind lined the walls, though Ulquiorra ignored them as he stared straight at the stone carved throne at the other side of the room. A man sat atop it, dressed in leather and furs, strings of gold and silver lined his neck and arms. His dark brown hair was slicked back, a single strand fallen out of place and dangling over his forehead. His brown eyes, sparkling with malicious intent, lightened for a bit in pride for his solider as Ulquiorra approached the throne, bowing once he reached an appropriate distance.

The man smiled and stood from his seat.

"Welcome back, Ulquiorra." The man said, "You now may rise."

Ulquiorra stood, looking up towards his master, the lord of the underworld.

"My Lord Aizen: The girl has been apprehended," He said in monotone, "Grimmjow is holding her in one of the cells. Currently she is unconscious and has yet to awaken, but she is not injured and will be ready for your presence as soon as she has awaken."

"Excellent." Aizen said, stepping down from the throne to speak to Ulquiorra at eye level. Even stand beside him, Aizen towered over the dark haired demon. He placed a large hand on Ulquiorra's shoulder, the demon's emerald eyes turning up towards his master, who looked down on him with a mischievous smile, saying, "You have just turned the odds in our favor."

He chuckled before leaning down to the shorter demon's ear.

"Break her."

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Chapter Six

End

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><p>Alright guys. I am so so so so so so so so so sorry for such a late update. I always get writers block and I'm never in the mood to write and when I am in the mood I'm busy doing school or homework or work or theater or drumline or something else that takes up time for me and ugh it sucks.<p>

Anyways... I hope you guys liked this chapter. I'm sorry that there isn't very much UlquiHime happening yet, and it may be a short while until we see some of that. We need to get some plot out there and get things moving before we can focus on anything that would be romantic.

I hope you guys had great holidays and stuff and I hope you enjoy the rest of your day. (:


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